Like Lavender and Sun
by crazysockmonkeys
Summary: Niles' inner writer emerges at an out-of-town conference.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This story was SUPPOSED to be a one-shot, but looks like that's not going to happen now! *****Grumbles under breath***** Anyway, happy reading!**

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><p>Niles' pen was poised above the page of his notebook, his ears completely tuned out to the speaker on stage. All around him were psychiatrists in their own form of heaven, sitting and listening to a detailed lecture on what they all did best. He had paid lots of money to be here and had been looking forward to this for weeks, yet now that he was here, all he could think about was Daphne and the remarkable dream he had had about her the night before. In it, she had told him that she loved him and then she had kissed him passionately. He would never forget that glorious dream for as long as he lived. Now that he and Maris were divorced, he knew that he had never been this in love with any woman, and that Daphne was the one that he was meant to be with. If only he could tell her that…<p>

He glanced down at his notebook, where he was supposed to be taking notes, and realized that he hadn't been paying attention for the last fifteen minutes. He twisted his lips and stared down at the white page, not having the slightest idea what to pen. Suddenly, his thoughts reverted to their previous state and he found himself writing _Daphne._

The sight of her name made him happy, and he smiled at the page, adding two words next to it.

_I love Daphne_

He ran his fingers over the ink and allowed them to stir inside of him. He wanted to write more now. His poetic side began to arise, and he put his best effort into what he wrote next.

_Her lips surely taste as fire  
>Daphne is my heart's desire<em>

He grinned at his effort, closed his eyes and remembered the kiss he had received from Daphne in his dream. _Fire, yes, _he thought. _And honey. Warm honey. And maybe even cool water, running into me. _Inspired again, he wrote more.

_Skin like lavender and eyes like sun  
>Daphne is the only one<em>

His face flushed, his heart raced. He was so in love with her he could barely stand it.

_It certainly is a sign of fear  
>Merely wishing she were here<em>

_But perhaps she'd say no  
>And then what might I do?<br>No love, no dream, no Daphne._

Niles frowned with dissatisfaction, seeing as how the final stanza of his poem didn't rhyme. It was, however, painfully true. His face fell visibly, and he was no longer happy and pleased like he had been. Clearing his throat, he flipped the page and began to take notes.

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><p>That night, while Niles was lying in bed reading in his hotel room, he remembered what he had written about Daphne. His thoughts when back to when he had left Seattle only yesterday. He had gone over to Frasier's apartment to say goodbye. While he bid farewell to his father and brother, Daphne had stood at the table, folding clothes. When he had approached her to say goodbye, she had only smiled and waved at him. "Have a good time," she had said, when all he had wanted to do was take her in his arms and tell her how much he'd miss her and how he'd be thinking about her and how already he couldn't wait to see her because he loved her so much and…<p>

He squeezed his eyes shut tight; then grabbed his notebook from the bedside table and flipped to the page to where he had written about her. Looking at the pages was bittersweet. Everything there made him think of her, yet it also made him think about how much he missed her. He would love to see her face, right now. A soft moan escaped his throat.

_Curse this, curse it all. Curse my cowardice, _he thought.

He looked at the half-full page and got an idea. He took a pen and set to work.

"_Good evening, Daphne."_

"_Hello there, Dr. Crane. My, everything looks lovely. Where did you get all these candles?"  
><em>

"_I bought them all…or rather, my personal shopper did. Please, Daphne, sit down."_

"_All right. I was wondering, Dr. Crane, is there a reason you've asked me here tonight?"_

"_Well, actually, yes, but I think I should serve you your food first."_

"_Oh, thank you, Dr. Crane, this all looks so delicious. You outdid yourself for me."_

"_It's nothing, really. Daphne, there's something of…importance I need to discuss with you."_

"_Really? Is it serious, is something wrong?"  
><em>

"_No, no, everything's fine."_

As Niles wrote, his hands began to tremble with nerves.

"_Are you sure, Dr. Crane? What is it?"_

"_Oh, Daphne…you know, since you moved in to help with Dad, my live hasn't been the same."_

"_That's very sweet."_

"_You…always brighten up my day. Daphne, you…are breathtaking."_

"_Dr. Crane, I don't know what to—"_

"_I've thought that from the moment I first saw you. You're so beautiful, and I need to say this now because if I don't I never will. Daphne, I love you. I need you. It's agonizing every moment I'm not with you, and I can't stop thinking about you and your beautiful face and what it might be like to have you as my own. My, Daphne, I can't imagine my life without you, and I don't want to."_

Niles lifted up his pen, having no idea what to write next. He had always wanted to say these things to her, but what would she say back? The thought made him tremble, and he put his pen down on the blanket.

What would he do if Daphne rejected him? He'd be lost, broken. He wouldn't have any hope left; he wouldn't have any more dreams. He had thought about this before, but now, suddenly, they seemed so real.

Niles put his pen and notebook on the bedside table and turned off the light.


	2. Chapter 2

For the rest of the conference, Niles did his best not to think about Daphne, but nothing worked. It had been this way for the past five years—Daphne constantly invading his mind. He thought about her hair,

_as dark as bark on rick, dark wood_

and what it might be like to have it wrapped around his fingers. He thought about her perfect lips and adorable nose, and he thought of the way it felt when they touched, either accidentally or on purpose. When he could not think of her any longer, she came again, his mind held captive in the palm of her hand. It was a

_wonderful, beautiful prison._

He tried not to write anything either, but that also proved unsuccessful. He visited the page where he had put his words about her on paper and read it repeatedly, and then against his will he began to contribute to it. By the time the conference had ended, there were six whole pages devoted to Daphne, and between those and the pages filled with notes he had taken, he had filled up his notebook.

After he returned home, Niles came to Frasier's apartment to say hello. When he knocked on the door, none other than Daphne herself opened it. "Good afternoon, Dr. Crane! How was your trip?"

Niles could only stand and stare at her for a few moments until he uttered, "Great. It was…excellent."

"Well, I'm glad. Dr. Crane and Mr. Crane are out right now, so I'm afraid it's just me."

Niles smiled. "Daphne…I missed you."

She smiled back. "I missed you too, Dr. Crane."

"Really?"

"Yes. I quite enjoy your little visits. It gives me a good change from what things are usually like around here. And you're nice to be around."

"Daphne, could I…hug you?"

"Of course, Dr. Crane." Niles folded into her arms like a small child and held her close. He felt her hand brush against the back of his neck and warmth spread.

"Is there something the matter?" She asked him.

"No, Daphne. I just missed you."

"You're so sweet, Dr. Crane. I know you have your own life, but I think it'd be nice if you lived here, too."

"Really?" He asked again.

"Sure. You're a good friend to me." 

"It's my…pleasure."

She smiled again and they were silent for a few moments. "Daphne, you look so lovely. I suppose I should have said that when I first came in," spoke Niles.

"Thank you. Do you ever stop being kind?"

He grinned. "I suppose it's just a gift I possess."

"You know, Dr. Crane, I was about to do the laundry…"

Niles stopped short and realized that she wanted him to leave now. He swallowed and said, "Yes, well, don't let me stop you. I…should be getting to work as well."

Daphne grabbed the laundry basket and they rode down in the elevator together. As Niles gazed at her, something he had written flashed in his mind.

_Her touch whispers and echoes through my heart's chambers like the feathers of a bird, brushing together softly._

He watched her hand as she tapped her fingers on the handle of the basket. He twisted his lips to keep from dwelling on how much he'd like to hold that hand, how much he'd like to press his lips to her knuckles.

_Curse this, _he thought again.

The elevator door opened, and said goodbye to her and left. Once he had gotten home, he went up to his office and took a new notebook from his desk drawer. Looking at the notebook he had just used up, he flipped through the pages quickly, catching sight of Daphne's name many, many times. Niles suddenly wondered why he allowed himself to write all those things about her. Thanks to him, it seemed like all that his feelings for Daphne had ever caused him was pain. All that these poems and stories had caused him was pain. Maybe he shouldn't have let himself write out her name that very first time. If he was going to be such a coward, the least he could do was figure out what was going to cause him to be hurt even more.

Saddened by his own hand yet again, Nile put his old notebook in the drawer and closed it. He didn't care about ever seeing it again. He walked out of the room and shortly after went to work. After that day, his thoughts toward what was inside the notebook diminished and he forgot all about it.


	3. Chapter 3

**FIVE YEARS LATER**

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><p>"Hi, Niles."<p>

"Oh, hello Daphne. It's nice to get a call from you."

"Do you know where that recipe is, the one we talked about yesterday, with the chicken and the fancy goat cheese and the…"

"Oh, yes, that one. I wrote it down in my notebook, but I just filled up that one and put it away."

"Where'd you put it?"

"In the—oh, sorry my love, I have a patient. Goodbye, I love you."

"Love you too," she said as he hung up the phone.

Daphne gave an audible sigh and began to walk up to Niles' office. She had finally figured out what she wanted to serve the guests they were having tonight, and now she would have to go searching for the recipe.

When she walked in, she sighed again. Daphne wasn't terribly acquainted with her husband's office, nor had she the slightest idea where he would have put an old notebook. She went behind his desk and sat in his lavish leather office chair. Everything smelled exactly like him, so much that she wished she had spent more time in here, although there wasn't any reason to.

Remembering her purpose, Daphne set to work. The first drawer she opened was full of old patient files, and she quickly slammed her eyes shut and closed the drawer, having learned her lesson about looking at patient files awhile ago. The next drawer was full of…pens, all the same type and size, arranged in small baskets of different color. Daphne assumed that the different basket colors represented ink hues. She gave a chuckle at the charming peculiarity that was Niles and closed the drawer.

The last one that she opened was full of just what she needed—notebooks. Like the pens, they all appeared to be exactly the same, and Daphne wondered what might happen to Niles if that type of notebook were to be discontinued. They were arranged in two neat piles, and when she picked up the two on top, they were blank on the inside. Confused, she decided to take out the first stack of notebooks to go through, having no idea how he organized them.

But as she lifted out the pile, gravity pulled it down out of her hands and they all arrived hurriedly on the floor. Notebooks fell open and upside down, and Daphne quickly bent over and began to pick them up, aggravated. Niles wouldn't be very happy when he saw that she had unorganized his notebooks, and she couldn't imagine what—

Looking down at one of the fallen books, Daphne caught sight of her name. She set it aside and picked up the other pads of paper, then looked at it again.

Up at the top of the page where she had found her name laid the date, April 7, 1998, in Niles' perfect handwriting. Curious, she began to read.

It was pages and pages of poems and stories, all about her. She sat in Niles' office chair reading poem after poem, tears staggering down her face as everything about her was compared to beautiful things like flowers and running water.

She cried with sadness as she read about the ways Niles had wanted to tell her that he loved her, and how he had been afraid of being rejected by her. One poem tore her in half.

_The Peaceful Spring_

_Daphne is the stars  
>Lending the flowers their peaceful rest.<br>The sun grows weary  
>Daphne becomes spring.<em>

_She is the reflections on river water  
>The rays on the grass of noon.<br>Her smile is enough to lend warmth  
>When the flowers have little light.<em>

_Daphne melts the ice  
>Deep within my heart<br>She becomes my night  
>She becomes my warmth<em>

_I'll love her always  
>Even when the winter snows threaten.<br>Daphne is my gentle breeze  
>She is my peaceful spring.<em>

How could she have been so blind to all of these things? How could she not have seen? Niles loved her so much and always had. As she finished the last word he had written about her, she look a deep breath and remembered what she had came for. She put the notebook aside yet again, found the recipe she needed, and left. She'd leave Niles to reorganize his notebooks later.

Daphne cooked as she patiently waited for Niles to come home while Niles' written words danced in her head happily. She couldn't wait for him to arrive; she couldn't wait to tell him what she had found. His words danced joyfully in her head all day until finally she heard the door opened. She stopped what she was doing and walked into the living room promptly.

He was just getting in the door at that moment. "Oh, good evening Daphne. I hope finding the recipe wasn't too—" Niles was interrupted by lips.

Daphne kissed him hard, trying to imagine the time when he had wanted this from her but hadn't gotten it. She pressed Niles against the door as he slipped his hands around her waist. Softly, she put her hand on his cheek and slid her thumb back and forth over it.

Her skin is as the petals in evening primrose…

She was reminded of how she always smoothed her fingers along his wrist whenever she was trying to convince him of something. No wonder that worked.

Their noses caressed as she turned her head slowly, and she found she wasn't quite done. Her other hand came up and she put her fingers through his hair softly. She could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, and she smiled on the inside of her. On the outside, she kissed harder, if that was possible.

Finally, she let go, and Niles smiled and breathed quickly. "Daphne…" He said.

She put a light kiss on his jawline. "Niles Crane, I love you so much."

"Oh…Daphne…" He almost trailed off from being distracted by continuing kisses.  
>"I can't tell you how much I love you."<p>

"I read all of those lovely things you wrote about me today. I found them when I was trying to get to the recipe."

"Things? What…"

"From about five years ago. Do you remember?"

"Yes, I do remember. I haven't thought about that since I put it away."

Daphne couldn't help but notice the new color in his cheeks. "Are you embarrassed?" She asked him.

"Well, perhaps."

"Is all of it true?"

He took her hand. "Of course it is, my angel."

"You really think I'm as bright as a tangerine in summer?"

He chuckled. "Yes."

"And you really think my lips are as tempting as a daisy in a grassy field?" She looked at his lips and drew in closer.

"Wonderfully so," he whispered, moving in as well.

"Then by all means, Niles, allow me to kiss you again." She did, and this time, their kisses were much more passionate. Daphne felt red rush through her body and her cheeks no doubt reflected this.

At that moment, there came a knock at the door. Their eyes popped open and they looked at each other, peeling their lips away and leaning their foreheads against each other. "Do we really have to answer that?" Daphne whispered.

"Yes, my love. That's Dad and Frasier," he whispered back.

She took his hand and they separated, walking over to the door and letting in their guests. Upon opening the door, Frasier commented, "My, my, such rosy cheeks. Whatever were you two doing just now?"

"Whatever it was, I don't want to hear about it," said Martin, letting himself in. He and Frasier took their places at the table while Niles and Daphne squeezed each other's hands and lingered not far behind.

It was at that moment that Niles realized the poems had not been for nothing. They had brought him joy, even if it had taken a long time.

Looking at Daphne, he was reminded for the thousandth time that the best things were worth waiting for.

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><p><strong>The End<strong>_  
><em>


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